My Eyes Won't Let Me Hide
by mickeylover303
Summary: Cause they always start to cry. NickGreg.


Inspired by _Lately_ as performed by Jodeci.

**Lyrics**

_Flashbacks_

Present

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* * *

**

**Lately I've the strangest feeling**

_He felt strange as he watched the other man. Afraid of the thought that lay in the back of his mind as he saw Greg laughing with Archie. Laughing with another the way he no longer did with him._

_Because the thought was so unexpectedly raw._

_He leaned heavily against the wall, the thought beginning to invade his body. He watched Greg heading his way; an unfamiliar ache in his chest becoming more discernible with each step._

_And as Greg presented him with a smile that became less pronounced each day, he could only do his best to return it._

**Been hanging around my mind  
**

He looked at note that that lay artlessly on the nightstand. Written in that subtle style of cursive that was barely recognisable.

_I have a late shift. The reservations are for 8:30. S. Eastern Avenue._

There was none of the usual playfulness. There was no gentle teasing of Nick's tendency to show up late. None of the X's and O's that were Greg's way of saying _I love you_.

It was succinct.

Straight to the point.

So unlike the Greg Sanders he knew.

He wanted to laugh at the simple irony, but not when it hurt too much to smile.

**When I ask**

**  
**_He came out of the shower, towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Carelessly dripping water onto the carpet, while he peered at the other man from across the room._

"_Where are you going?" He looked hopefully at Greg. Watching as he corrected his reflection. Fixed his collar. Styled his hair._

"_No place special." He knew he was waiting for an invitation that would never come. "Just hanging out with a couple of friends."_

_And it pained him to see that Greg wouldn't even look in his direction, walking out without a goodbye. "When will you be back?" _

"_I don't know."_

**Hope my premonition misses  
**

He rummaged through their closet. Trying to find the dress shirt Greg had given him for his birthday.

The same dark blue shirt with two little white Puffins on the front pocket.

He could remember all the times Greg asked him to wear it. And he could remember the all the times he declined, his pride unrelenting.

Underneath a pair of old boots he seldom wore, Nick found it in the corner of the closet. And he touched it gently, as if any other motion would destroy it.

Ignoring the discoloured price tag and the prickling sensation in his eyes.

**Very slowly picking me apart  
**

_Closing his eyes, he ran a calloused hand over the smoothness of head. It was newly shaven; almost every trace of hair was gone._

_The same hair Greg used to run his fingers through._

_When opened, he saw the crinkles around his eyes. The ones that appeared with or without a smile._

_That did so much to betray his age._

_Looking in the mirror, he tried to correct himself. Fixing a collar when his shirt had none. Styling hair that wasn't there. Distracting himself with the faults of his appearance._

_So he wouldn't have to focus on the empty bed._

**Trying to tell myself I that I have a reason  
**

They rarely touched.

And sometimes it felt like Greg went out of his way to avoid him. Taking the chair instead of sharing the couch.

Putting distance between themselves on their bed. Not like the times when Greg would mould himself to Nick, wrapping his lanky body around him.

He washed his face, trying to clear his thoughts.

Reaching for a towel, he spotted the open tube of haemorrhoid cream on the floor, its contents emptied.

Putting the towel on the rack, he then reached for the toothpaste.

Staring at his toothbrush, wondering if the cleanser was burning his eyes.

**Just the other night  
**

_He barely heard the soft whisper. And would have missed it if the silence wasn't so still._

_His groggy voice barely recognisable in dark. "Did you say something?" He turned to Greg, sheets crinkling in the wake of his movement._

"_No…"_

"_Is something bothering you?" Greg wouldn't even face him. His figure curled on the other side of the bed. Making him so cold without that familiar warmth. "Because you haven't been-"_

"_It was just a dream."_

_He spoke quietly, almost fearful of Greg's response and disheartened by the distant tone in the other man's voice. "About us?"_

"_Nothing important."_

**Cause this time could mean good-bye**

He hoped his jacket would hide the stains on the blue shirt. The dirt from his old boots.

He didn't have time to make it to the dry cleaners. And he had nothing that would remove the stains without damaging the shirt.

With one hand, he pulled the jacket tighter around himself, the other firmly gripping the steering wheel of his Denali.

Nick arrived early, finding a space in the crowded parking lot. He leaned heavily against his seat, his eyes searching for Greg's car.

The lights of the restaurant dimly reflecting the trailing warmth he forgot to wipe away.

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own CSI._

_Nick is concerned that Greg is leaving him or possibly cheating on him. Shocker. Honestly, I think Nick's just being a thespian and taking low-self worth to new depths. But that's just my opinion._


End file.
